


I’ll Stop My Plans

by Vanilla_Ella



Series: Misplaced [2]
Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 00:25:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16923180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanilla_Ella/pseuds/Vanilla_Ella
Summary: And then, one evening as he stares out the window, contemplating his plans and adding final adjustments, Tyler says it.“I’d kill myself if something happened to Josh.”





	I’ll Stop My Plans

**Author's Note:**

> (I really recommend reading the first part before this one!)
> 
> Hope you all enjoy :)
> 
> (By the way, Blurry is represented here as he is in the Blurryface era and not as Nico in this era. Red eyes and the black hands and the cute Tyler face with the intimidating emotionless and the whole deal)

Exhausting. 

If you were to ask Blurry how the last five weeks had been, that would probably be his only answer before passing out on the nearest piece of furniture, or even maybe (if he was really taking the dramatic route) the floor. 

Which sounded kind of nice at the moment, if he was being honest.

“You gotta eat something, B,” Tyler says softly, his hand carding through the greasy mess of hair on the older man’s head. “Y’ haven’t eaten for a day, I can tell.”

The implied ‘you also haven’t showered for even longer’ goes unsaid, and Blurry would be offended, if he weren’t so damn tired.

“Shut up and lemme sleep,” he huffs tiredly, eyes already protesting and falling half-lidded against his will. The black out curtains are a blessing, blocking out the early morning sun and the lights of the city, hiding away the earth until he has to get up in eight hours and deal with it again.

It’d been a vicious cycle ever since Tyler stopped working, the older man being left with enough on his plate for two. It’s a tough shift in life, one he’s still trying to figure out and make work, but until then, long nights and fatigue seem to fix themselves as a semi-permanent fixture in his every day life. 

Not that they hadn’t been before, of course.

“My poor Blur,” Tyler sighs, hand slipping down and caressing his cheek. He feels lips against his hair and skin against his own, and he wants to pretend it’s the exhaustion that’s irking him, or Tyler’s insistence to bother him after working a full fourteen hours trying to make ends meet their designated quota making his temper run short, but deep down, it’s something else. 

Maybe it’s the fact that this is the first time in five weeks Tyler’s actually paid any sort of attention to him, attention that used to be so common and typical it went by somewhat unappreciated by the older man. Maybe it’s the fact that Blurry knows that the only reason Tyler’s spending a little time on his wellbeing is because his focus isn’t shifted on someone else, a smaller, more needy, more delicate someone else who happens to be sleeping in a little nest of blankets and pillows on the floor just beside them, breathing peacefully.

“Stop,” he snaps, voice low but unrelenting, sharp-edged. When he feels Tyler tense, he buries his face in the thin, dusty pillow under his head, swallowing the lump in his throat and shutting his eyes tightly. 

As if on cue, Josh’s cry rings out, and Tyler’s ripped away from him again. 

It’s a vicious cycle.

 

•••••

 

Ironic. 

For how intense it’d been, the jealousy dies out rather quickly. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t given very long to live out in the first place, as it was snuffed out as a deep curiosity (and concern) took its place.

What started out as Tyler wanting to be a parent declines downhill into a full-blown obsession, his brain attuned sharply to every single one of Josh’s emotions and needs, to the point of it seeming on another level above natural. One minute Blurry would be talking to him, the next minute Tyler would be cutting the conversation off quick and darting out of whatever room they were in to get to Josh, milliseconds before said baby even burst into tears, as if Tyler was expecting it, as if he somehow knew what was coming next before it even hit.

There’d be comments he’d make to Blurry, soft declarations of how much he loved Josh, his moon and his sun and his planets and every single star in his galaxy; and somehow, for all his sweet talk, his actions manage to speak much louder. 

There’s something unfamiliar in Tyler’s eyes, a spark of burning obsession and possessiveness; fire threatens to consume both the baby and himself, and Blurry’s chest tightens whenever he holds Josh, kisses his little face and drops anything and everything to be with his little angel. 

Happily, he revolves around the baby’s schedule, no matter how late he’ll end up staying some nights or how early he’ll wake up the next day. It’s painfully obvious how happy and in love he is; Blurry hasn’t seen him smile for as long as he does, hasn’t previously seen the amount of utter love he pours into every single action towards Josh. It makes Blurry’s heart ache a little, to know he’ll have to take it away soon. 

The cause for concern is not awoken, at first. It’s infatuation with parenthood on Tyler’s behalf, infatuation with sippy cups and blankets and Josh; it’s expected, yet extreme at times, and Blurry doesn’t say anything, tries to stay as uninvolved as possible until he walks in, 3 A.M one morning, to find Josh lying on Tyler’s naked chest, sucking sleepily on his nipples.

Blurry’s immediately taken aback by the sight, Tyler lazily caressing Josh’s back with soft sighs and a content smile making his stomach turn in the strangest way.

“Tyler, what th’ fuck?”

The younger man looks up at him, eyes shining yet clouded with tiredness. He pats the spot on the bed next to him, and Blurry moves over to sit, dropping his backpack on the floor beside the mattress. 

“He isn’t hungry, B,” Tyler says under his breath, so obviously careful not to disturb the creature on his chest. “Already fed him, and he kept crying like he wanted more.”

Blurry frowns, soaking in the words. He chances a glance at Josh before he tears his gaze away. There’s something so strangely intimate about him sucking on Tyler. There’s no milk or blood, the typical key factors of intimacy blatantly missing from the scene, but maybe it’s not the aspects of it that makes it so personal, the atmosphere heavy. 

The mere gesture of love is blinding enough, the personal sacrifice of comfort and privacy speaking volumes on Tyler’s behalf. 

It’s the happy, innocent, blissed out look on Josh’s face, the utter contentment and fulfillment on Tyler’s that makes Blurry understand, if not subconsciously. 

“So...” Blurry urges Tyler on quietly, brain looping on the rhetorical aspect of the question though he still refrains from looking at either of them and instead plays with the crimson ring on his finger.

It twists and twists, reflecting the situation quietly in it’s simplistic complexity.

“Babies need skin contact, B.” Tyler’s voice cracks, though the older man’s sure it isn’t out of nervousness or hurt. He’s become familiar enough with the brunet’s voice to be able to discern. “It’s good for mental development and all that.”

Blurry wants to laugh at the statement, a bold-faced mockery to the current situation, but he doesn’t, biting his lip. 

There is no sanity in their apartment, perhaps even less than out on the streets. 

 

••••••

 

Time drags on, and Blurry feels it in his bones; luck is something foreign to him, in the same way fortune is, and maybe that’s why he feels it.

The little slit of guilt opens up, insignificantly small at first, a simple cut in Blurry’s mind. It’s not long before it becomes inescapable, impossible to ignore as it grows bigger. With each one of Josh’s high pitched cries and every one of his gentle babbles, the truth becomes as suffocating and large as the atmosphere, unavoidable and painfully obvious.

It becomes a mental, festering wound, the fact that they’d stolen a whole human away from his mansion and his rightful parents crawls up and down the walls of Blurry’s mind; the fact that they might have stolen a baby away from a better, safer, more stable life stains him worse than any other crime he’d committed before. 

It’s one thing to take things from people; it’s another thing to take everything from them. 

The more he‘d thought about and acknowledged it over the past weeks, the stranger the food sat in his stomach, the harder it became for sleep to roll his way. 

Blurry knew he’d have to bring Josh back, sooner than later; Tyler’s obvious obsession was only growing with every minute he held the baby, the fire in his eyes growing brighter and more dangerous.

Over the next two days, Blurry begins planning; he even visits the mansion to make sure nothing’s changed, that he can enter the same window he did a little over a month ago and place Josh back into his rightful crib in his rightful room. There was no justification to rob him of the life he was meant to live, no matter how happy he made Tyler and how much he wanted to keep him.

Josh deserves a crib, normal parents, a typical four-walled love. The last thing he needed was two drug-dealing guardians, a life full of betrayal and uncertainty. Despite how fucked up his brain is, Blurry’s sure of this and ready to act upon it. 

And then, one evening as he stares out the window, contemplating his plans and adding final adjustments, Tyler says it.

“I’d kill myself if something happened to Josh.”

The strong statement is sudden, taking a second to seep and register in Blurry’s brain. 

He shifts his gaze from the window pane to where Tyler is, standing in the middle of the living room only a few feet away.

His fingers are fidgeting with his long-sleeved hoodie, and he’s staring at Blurry with this strange look, as if he knows what the older man is planning to do.

“What’re y’ talkin’ about, Ty?” Blurry’s face remains blank, his steps carefully calculated as he approaches the younger brunet, stopping just a few feet away.

Tyler frowns, silently closing the distance Blurry prudently bothers to keep between them with a few steps. 

He’s toe-to-toe with Blurry when he wraps his arms around his waist, pushing his face into the older man’s chest. A strange, twisted whimper erupts in his throat.

“Joshie’s mine,” Tyler mumbles shakily. His eyes shine with resoluteness, the tone of his words hanging in the air with their unforgiving, unapologetic significance. “He’s my entire galaxy and my love. If he was taken away...”

“Ty..” Blurry swallows tightly, knowing he had to be careful if he wanted to make it out of the conversation with both of them mentally and physically intact. “He’s been with ‘s for long enough... Don’t y’ think...?”

“No!” Tyler shouts, set off as quickly as a bomb, and he would’ve stepped away and slapped Blurry if the older man hadn’t wrapped his arms tighter around the younger, holding him in place as he shouts. “He’s mine! I’ll fucking kill myself if he’s taken away!”

Blurry rubs his back, hushing him over and over, and when Tyler stops squirming and fighting against his hold, when the anger melts away like a lemon drop and all that’s left is an empty sort of sadness, he crumbles, legs giving out and body entirely supported by Blur as he begins crying, shaking his head.

“I’ll kill myself, I’ll kill myself,” he chants over and over, and Blurry can see through the emotions and the exhaustion on Tyler’s behalf that it’s a promise, an oath Tyler’s cutting into his brain with just the thought of his angel disappearing. 

“Y’ don’t mean that,” Blurry says quietly, pressing his lips against Tyler’s overheated temple. 

“I do! I’ll f-fucking slit my throat a-and drink my blood if something happens to him,” Tyler sobs, grasping at Blurry like a man drowning in agony. “A-and if something happened to you, y-you know I-I’d do the same.”

“Tyler, shh...” Blurry pets his hair as he carries him to their bed, whispering cut up reassurances that he doesn’t even mean, kissing Tyler’s head as if he wasn’t planning on betraying him. 

Tyler’s sobs die down only minutes after Blurry lies him down, pulling the smaller man on top of him and keeping him looped in his arms. 

His little repeated whispers and promises of self-inflicted death tumble from his mouth as Blurry hushes him, presses his nose against Tyler’s small pixie one.

Its only when Tyler falls asleep, his soggy cheek pressed against Blurry’s neck that Blurry shifts, hands grazing over Tyler’s arms. 

The bandages covering them scream at him in neon.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos/comments. I miss you all ❤️
> 
> Hope you have an awesome day/night! Sending you all the love in the world!


End file.
